19, my dms and asks are open to anyone, again, so long as your respectful. Things absolutely get political over here, I’m not gonna apologize lowk cause why would I apologize for being for the ppl???
summary: jake is convinced you're keeping a secret, and won't take no for an answer.
warnings: no use of y/n, gn reader, lee!reader, ler!jake, the word sex is used like six times but there is nothing explicit, jake being jake, reader works at the 99, could be read as either platonic or romantic, reader wears glasses but no descriptions otherwise, light swearing, mention of homicide/suicide but no descriptions
word count: 3.4k
authors notes: this is just Shenanigans: The Fic. no but genuinely this fic was so fun to write, i barely had to plan anything, the words just flowed on their own. which is why this ended up being so long. sorry. i feel like i was possessed by jake's spirit. fic title: superman by south arcade
///
You were filling out a case report when Jake rolled his chair over to your desk. It bumped noisily into the wood, making your computer monitor shake. When you looked up, Jake was leaning forward in his chair, eyes fixed on you with great focus.
"Hello?" You said tentatively.
His eyes narrowed.
Rosa sauntered up next to your seat, coffee in hand. "What's up with him?" She asked you.
"You tell me." You said, looking between her and Jake.
"What's up with you?" Rosa asked Jake.
He leaned back in his seat, eyes still fixed on you. "You're keeping a secret."
You frowned, deeply confused by his statement. "I'm not."
"Everyone here has a secret." Jake said confidently. "Amy with her smoking, Rosa with her…everything."
"Right." You said slowly. "I really don't keep secrets from anyone here, though."
"It's true." Rosa chimed in. "They're, like, disgustingly honest. Ask them anything."
Jake's eyes zeroed in on you. "What's your body count?" His arms shot up in front of him. "Wait - don't answer that."
You raised an eyebrow. "Arrests or sex?"
"Whaaat?" Jake broke eye contact, laughing nervously. "Arrests, obviously, why would I mean sex? I don't think about sex."
"So you don't think about sex with them?" Rosa asked, baiting, nodding her head towards you.
You and Rosa exchanged an amused look, and she turned to head back to her desk. You collected your papers and tapped them on the desk to even them out. You stood and walked around Jake's chair.
"It's five, by the way." You told him as you passed him.
"Wait, arrests or sex?" His head snapped up to look at you. When you didn't respond, he turned his chair to watch you go, raising his voice after you. "Arrests or sex?!"
"Peralta!" You heard Terry's sharp voice behind you. "Why are you yelling the word 'sex' across my precinct?"
You smiled to yourself as Jake made his pleas, bargains, and excuses. You slipped into Holt's office and pulled the door shut behind you, giving them one last look.
Jake was skulking back to his desk, Terry pointing at it with a firm hand.
Across the room, your eyes met with Jake's by accident. He pointed at his eyes with two fingers, then aimed them at you.
Ah, you thought, this would be a long-term project for him.
@
Your head hung low, chin almost to your chest, cradled between your forearms. Your elbows rested heavily on the break room table, glasses hanging loosely from your fingers.
Your head felt like cotton, and your eyes were aching in a way that no amount of blinking could remedy. The price of not getting enough sleep the night before.
It hadn't even been triggered by anything. No tough cases, no personal life stress. You had gotten into bed at a reasonable eleven p.m and then tossed and turned until you heard the birds waking outside. Your body just decided not to sleep that night.
Your glasses suddenly slipped from your hand.
You reached out on instinct, raising your head, grasping at air in at attempt to catch your glasses before they hit the floor. But they weren't falling.
You looked up to see Jake standing by the table, slipping your glasses on his face.
"Ah?" He stretched his arms out dramatically, posing, waiting for your approval. "How do I look?"
Even with your blurry eyesight you could clearly see the wide, bright grin on his face.
"Huh? Huh?" Jake pestered when you didn't react quickly enough to his liking. "Come on! You know I look great!"
"Yes, very cute, now give them back." You waved your hand at him. "I can't see shit."
Jake, for what it was worth, obeyed instantly. He had, however, ignored your outstretched hand and skipped closer to slide your glasses back on your face himself.
You watched his face shift into focus as the lenses slid into position. He had a softness around his eyes, and was still smiling. It struck you then, that maybe his intention hadn't been to be irritating, but to cheer you up.
His fingers brushed lightly against the sensitive skin behind your ears.
You held your breath and tried not to squirm, feeling goosebumps rise on the back of your neck.
You twitched, anyway.
Jake's eyes, always alert, followed the movement.
You were quick to divert his attention. "I need caffeine."
He side stepped swiftly to let you stand up and head to the coffee machine. You busied yourself with searching the cupboard for your favorite mug, but the silence distracted you.
You shot a glance behind you at Jake.
He was standing where you had left him, his eyes technically on you, but unfocused.
"You okay over there?" You asked. He blinked, face morphing into a pleasant smile.
"Hm?" He pulled his hands behind his back into a polite stance. "Nothing, not thinking about anything in particular - just cases, you know how it is."
You frowned, suspicious at his rambling. "That's not what I asked."
"No?" He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, well, anyway. Gottagobye!"
With that, he ran out of the room.
You watched the doorway he had slipped through for a long moment, willing your brain to figure out what had just happened.
The beginnings of a headache crawled up your temples.
"Whatever." You muttered to yourself, resuming your coffee task. "I'm sure I'll find out soon enough."
@
"Heeey!" Amy appeared at your shoulder. "What's poppin', dawg?"
You stared at her.
'What's poppin'? You thought in wonder.
"'Dawg'?" Is what came out of your mouth.
Amy cringed slightly. "Yeah, not my best work."
"No, not really." You agreed with a snort.
"Anyway, do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something." Her eyebrows creased in that endearing way when she really wanted something but was hesitant to ask. You placed your papers on top of the printer, turning your attention fully on her. The photocopies could wait.
"Shoot." You said.
"Okay, so." Amy straightened her back a little, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. "I was thinking about Teddy the other day-"
"Amy-" You shut your eyes in disappointment.
"No, no, no!" She exclaimed. "Not like that. I just remembered something from when we were dating and I wanted to hear your opinion."
"Alright." You conceded, bracing your hand on top of the printer. "What is it?"
"Well, there was this one time we were bickering." Amy explained. "Nothing serious, it was more of a play fight than anything else. And in order to try and get him to agree with my point, I tried tickling his neck."
Cold dread flushed through you.
"And, I mean, his reaction was what you'd expect." She continued, unaware of your internal struggle. "But then he said something kind of weird."
"What did he say?" You froced yourself to ask.
"He got kind of cagey, and then he said: 'what, do you like tickling or something?'"
Yep. Exactly what you feared.
"But my question is," Amy's voice lowered a little. "Do you think that's a thing?"
"Do I think what's a thing?" You asked, even though you understood her perfectly. Your palms were sweating.
"You know," she swayed her shoulders awkwardly. "People out there. Liking tickling."
"Uhh." You looked up, past her shoulder, heart thudding in your chest. "I guess there's something out there for everyone, right?"
Amy watched you for a second, before putting on a wide smile. "Right! Yeah, no, of course - you're right!" She flapped her hand. "I'm probably just overthinking this, you go back to your - whatever you need to be doing."
She sped away, spine ramrod straight.
You followed her with your eyes. Something was up. This wasn't the usual Amy behaviour. This was Amy-being-put-up-to-something behaviour.
She kept her pace all the way around the room, ignoring Gina baiting her on the way, and disappeared into the break room.
Through the window you could see her talk to Jake.
Something was definitely up.
@
"Here you go." Jake placed a fruit cup on your desk with a flourish, then slipped in to a bad posh accent. "For you m'dear!"
You paused your typing and looked between him and the cup.
"You got me fruit?" You asked, bewildered. "I would have expected fizzy candy from you."
"Yeah, there's all sorts of fruit in there." Jake said, ignoring your jibe.
"Oh yeah? Like what?" You teased. "Can you even name a fruit?"
Jake grinned, pointing to the cup at various angles as he listed the fruit it contained.
"Watermelon, strawberries, orange, apple," he paused for emphasis, making direct eye contact with you. "Raspberries."
No.
You felt your heart stutter in your chest.
Was he implying what you thought he was implying?
He kept looking at you with that familiar expression that said he knew exactly what he was doing.
You stared back resolutely despite the heat at the back of your neck.
"Would you say they're your favorite?" Jake asked, voice dripping with double meaning.
Your only coherent thought was: what the shit?
"I have no idea what you're talking about." You said flatly.
"Oh yeah?" Jake's eyes flashed with unfiltered delight, then he hushed his voice. "Is it a secret?"
You felt your face flush and - with the way Jake's eyes flickered across your face, noting the change - you knew you were done for.
It occured to you, then, that your hunch was correct. Something was up.
Jake had tried to get Amy to find this information out for him.
But you hadn't said anything to her, so how did he-
The glasses.
"It's grapes." You delfected.
"Okay, okay." Jake's eyes squinted in amusement.
"I'm telling the truth." You hated the way your voice pitched into a desperate note.
"For sure." Jake said in a way that told you he didn't believe you for a second, and was simply humouring you because he found this funny.
"I'm serious."
"I know."
"Jake."
"I totally believe you." He grinned, putting his hands in his pockets. "You're the picture of composure right now."
You snatched your empty mug and pushed away from your desk. You needed to get away from his scrutiny, and grins, and knowing looks.
"Hey, Sarge?" You called to Terry as you passed each other. "I'm taking my break early."
You didn't give him a chance to reply, leaving him confused, as you power-walked to hide away in the break room.
"You forgot your fruit cup!" Jake's voice trailed after you.
@
The next week passed in a chaotic blur.
There was a double homicide, which turned out to be a double suicide, but not before it was all hands on deck trying to solve this case.
"You know, the Japanese call it shinjū." Charles explained from his spot at the break room table. "Lovers committing double suicide believed they would be reunited in heaven, and approach rebirth in the Pure Land."
"Sounds kinda romantic." Gina said, then leaned her head out the door to call accross the precinct. "Hey, Terry! Wanna commit double suicide with me?"
You closed your eyes against the chatter, leaning your head on the back of the leather couch.
For a moment you floated somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, bones melting into the cushions beneath you. You let your legs relax, knees bent slightly, arms hugging your torso to keep warm.
Something nudged your knee.
With great effort, you peeled your eyes open and turned your head to the source of movement. Jake, mirroring your relaxed pose with his arms crossed over his chest, was eyeing you with a half-smile.
"Pizza." He said simply. "My place. You in?"
"Die Hard?" You croaked sleepily.
"Obviously."
You nodded. "Let's go."
Jake grinned and sprung up from his seat, extending a hand to help you up. How he managed to have this much energy, you didn't know. The man was like a constantly-powered battery.
You let him pull you through the precinct by your hand, half-heartedly listening to his excuses to the rest of the team.
"I might need a coffee if you don't want me to fall asleep halfway through the movie." You said as Jake ushered you into his car.
"We can get you coffee." He said. "But you don't have to stay awake. You can just crash at mine."
The drive was quiet. You leaned your head on the window, focring yourself to stay awake. Jake made a stop at a pizza place, and the triumphant grin he gave you as he floundered back inside the car with the food made your chest hurt with affection.
His apartment, remarkably, was less of a disaster than usual.
"Did you…clean?" You asked in surprise, stopping short at the threshold leading to his living room.
"Are you impressed?" He asked, fishing for a compliment.
"You had Gina help, didn't you?"
"Fine. Yes, Gina helped me." He flapped a hand at you. "Go get comfortable, I'll bring the food in."
"I can help."
"You're barely standing." He pushed at your shoulder with increased insistence until you were laughing lightly. "Go!"
You shuffled into the living room, pausing only to toe your shoes off, and collapsed onto your back on top of the couch. Jake came in a few moments later.
"Did the sock goblin get you?" He asked, sitting down heavily once he placed the food and drinks on the coffee table.
You tilted your head to glance at your mismatched socks. "I lost their pairs months ago. Didn't wanna throw out perfectly good socks."
Jake pulled your foot up by the ankle, inspecting closely. "What even is that? Some kind of furry hotdog?"
"They're corgis, you dingus." You grinned.
"Like Cheddar." Jake nodded, then gasped dramatically, looking up at you. "We should get these for Captain Holt!"
"You think Holt would wear anything other than plain navy crew socks?" You asked, chuckling.
"You're right…" Jake sighed, lowering your foot to rest it on his thigh. "He probably irons them, too."
"No, no." You shook your head against the armrest. "He has them dry-cleaned and pressed."
"You sound very sure."
"Maybe I am."
Jake's eyes flashed with excitement at the prospect of hot Raymond Holt gossip.
You snorted through your nose. Jake's face fell into unamused, judgemental disapproval.
"You think you're funny." He accused.
"I think I'm hilarious."
"Yeah?" His eyebrows raised. He shot his hand out to pinch at your hip. "How's this for hilarious?"
You yelped, pulling your knee up to block access to your hip. Jake rested his wrist on top of that leg, fingers curled loosely, barely brushing against the fabric of your trousers. He was watching you like a hawk.
There was a moment of charged silence where you locked eyes with each other. Jake's expression was daring you to fight back, to challenge him. To let him prove his point.
You'd be lying if you said the thought wasn't a little exciting. You were a cop, after all. You had a penchant for adrenaline-seeking.
You stuck your tongue out at him.
That was all he needed.
Instead of pouncing on you like you expected him to, grabbing at your sides, or your ribs, maybe even your thighs, he just - leaned his weight into you. He shifted upwards, aligning his body with yours, braced one forearm against the armrest next to your head.
Somehow, that made you more nervous than if he'd just gone in for the kill.
He brought his free hand up to your face, hooking his fingers behind your ear.
Ah. Okay.
"You look so freaked out right now." Jake's voice was soft, but he was holding back a laugh. He started scribbling his fingers behind your ear before you could snipe back at him.
A strangled sound made its way halfway up your throat.
"Yeah?" Jake asked. You squeezed your eyes shut.
Jake's fingers trailed a little lower, then a little forward. Desperate giggles escaped you when he landed on the spot just at the bend of your jaw.
He giggled right with you. "How are you this ticklish? You're a cop!"
"Shut uhup, Perahalta!" You snapped, bracing your knee against him where it was squished between your bodies. You managed to jostle him a bit, but not enough to stop him.
"You're usually so composed." Jake kept talking. "What's up with you?"
You knew he was baiting you into a scuffle. But the way he kept scribbling over that spot by your jaw, and not letting up, was pushing you to desperate measures.
You jabbed both your hands into his ribs.
He yelped - loud and high-pitched - whole body jolting, but was quick to recover.
"Alright, that's it!" He said, wrestling your wrists into a tight grip. "Hand privileges revoked!"
"Jake." You said, heart thudding against yout ribcage.
He ignored you, shuffling into a more comfortable position, straddling your legs. Once he was situated, he moved your wrists to grip them with one hand. Then, making sure you were watching, he raised his free hand up, and flexed his fingers into a crab-like claw.
"Jacob." You insisted, but could not find more words. Jake grinned, making pinching motions with his hand.
"Peralta." You tried again. The pincers moved, lowering slowly towards your waist.
Your breath caught and you fought against the instinct to squirm away.
Jake paused his approach right by your waist, fingers close, but not close enough to touch.
You swallowed thickly.
He feigned, shooting his hand forward as if he was about to pinch your waist, but pulled back at the last second.
You squeaked and flinched anyway.
The laugh that burst out of him was bright and bubbly, and made his shoulders shake.
"Oh man," he said through his giggles. "You've really got it bad, huh?"
"Shut it, Peralta." You gritted out through your teeth, face hot.
"Alright, arlight." He soothed. "Here." He made contact, pinching lightly at the soft flesh on your waist.
"Ah!" You yelped, dizzolving into wheezy chuckling, hands instinctively pulling towards your torso to try and shield yourself. Jake pulled your arms back to him by the wrists.
"Hmm." He said after a moment. "You were louder earlier."
If there was one thing about Jake, it's that he could be very thorough when he wanted to be. You knew this very well from working on countless cases with him. When something really caught his interest, his focus was laser-sharp and unwavering.
So when he slipped his hand under the hem of your NYPD issued crewneck to lightly scribble at your skin, you weren't shocked.
You were, though, thrown into hysterics.
"Ooh, I see." Jake mused. "You need a gentle hand."
"Dohon't say it like thahat, you weirdo!" You scolded, kicking your leg against the couch cushions behind him.
"I'm not saying it like anything!" His voice pitched up, laced with amusement. "You're the one being weird. Get your mind outta the gutter, you weirdo."
"You're the - weirdo -!" You grunted through your laughter, attempting to buck him off you. Jake only laughed.
"Come on!" He taunted with a wide grin. "Remember your training! How are you gonna catch bad guys if you can't even free yourself?"
"I can't!"
"Why?" He moved his hand higher, to your ribs. "Oh, is it because I'm tickling you?"
"You're dead!" You threatened, gasping.
Jake snorted and yanked your caught arms higher to deliver a fast, precise scribble on your underarm. You barely managed to squeak out protests when he backed off, releasing your hands.
You shot up to a sitting position and punched him on the upper arm. Satisfied with his flinch and yelp, you flopped back down onto the couch, breathing heavily.
"You." You pointed your finger at him. "I'm gonna get you so bad you'll beg for mercy in seven different languages."
"Yeah, okay, Chuckles." He said easily, getting of your legs and plopping down onto the couch. He lifted your legs to let them rest on his lap. "Whatever you say."
"Just play your stupid movie." You grumbled.
"Careful," he warned, leaning to grab the tv remote. "I haven't checked what your other sock looks like."
The threat was clear.
"Die Hard is cool." You mumbled, crossing your arms and tucking your palms into the crook of your underarms.
The look Jake gave you at your quick compliance sent a shiver down your spine.
I’m so tired of fake (keyword, FAKE) tiktok feminists, why did I just see a lady talk abt you can’t be a feminist if you have/want kids because that’s basically you submitting to the patriarchy….. please shut the fuck up
I think these people are cia plants to make feminism look irrational, because the same woman was talking abt how nobody ever shaves/does makeup just for themselves, it’s always for the male gaze. she can’t be a real person.
I need a cigarette I’m too worked up over some random person who’s probably being paid to be an idiot 😭
@fruitv4mp I’m sorry I didn’t see you replied under this😭
I’ve got jalapeños, marglobe tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, two types of cucumbers, two different yellow squashes, banana peppers, a bell pepper plant (only 1 made it to the ground😔💔) and a whole bunch of purple-hull peas. We’re working on setting up a flower plot rn too:)
Instead of AI art I wish there was a machine you could wear on your head that controls your hand so I could draw the very specific images in my head that are too advanced for my art skills😭 cause AI art is never not ugly and depressing😒
Random little vent (not that deep just a silly memory)
Thinking abt that one time my mom was so upset at my sister cause she had been crying all day and refused to sleep she whooped MY ass until I couldn’t sit right cause she couldn’t hit the baby😭😭
I love when transphobes forget abt trans men lowk cause the whole “Trans women should use the men’s room” argument is IMMEDIATELY shut down when you say “Okay so trans men should be in the women’s room?” Cause i guarantee they’d freak out seeing a man who’s been on T for years, full beard and buff as hell in the women’s room, but by their logic it should be perfectly fine since they were born women.
Also how do they plan to tell who’s trans? Are they gonna pull your pants down outside of the bathroom?? Or are they just gonna pick out the ones they think look like trans ppl? Cause these guys are slow, so Ik if it’s the 2nd 90% of the ppl they accuse are gonna be cis😭
My biggest thing abt the Bible’s in school thing besides the fact it just shouldn’t be in there, is that they wanna put it in history classes specifically. Shouldn’t it be in English/ELA?? Isn’t that the class you typically read and break down texts? I’m genuinely so lost.😭
Still so tired of ppl being like “B-but Astrid is a Viking and-“ and she’s from a made up place where her and her fucking friends tame DRAGONS
“But historically-“ look me in my eyes right now and tell me a point in history where vikings tamed dragons. Right now. Quickly.
Also idk why ppl are so mad, she’s literally more than half white and looks almost exactly like Astrid😭
“But the vikings are Scandinavian so this-” Are you upset none of the other people are of Scandinavian descent as well?? Or is it just her you’re upset abt? 🙄
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